


The Mutual Fascination of Misfits: Scar

by offwhxte



Series: Misfits [9]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M, Mostly Fluff, Older Aaron, Some angst, Younger Spencer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 03:31:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10733250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/offwhxte/pseuds/offwhxte
Summary: Aaron noticed a lot in the first month of "tutoring" Spencer in the big, warm house.





	The Mutual Fascination of Misfits: Scar

Aaron noticed a lot in the first month of "tutoring" Spencer in the big, warm house. Several of them were the way he was familiar with every part of the structure, organization, and overall personality of the place, more so than he expected. Spencer was a very shy kid, even in the libraries he loved so much and went to every day. The way he handled himself in closed doors in the house he grew up was enthralling to Aaron; he could watch him walk from the door to the couch all day. 

Spencer's mother was... nice. Kind, he thought. She didn't say much, and she surprisingly didn't suspect anything between the two of them. The first time they met, Spencer was basically sitting on Aaron's lap as they pretended to go over Spencer's work. She hadn't said hello, but she gave a smile and disappeared into the tall oak door where the television most likely would have gone had the space not been vacant by what seemed to be a very important door.  

She hadn't come out for the rest of the night. Eventually, Spencer suggested he and Aaron just go upstairs and commence some kind of bedtime ritual. The pattern continued; Spencer's mother would come home from work, Aaron would try to seem as chummy as possible to no avail, Spencer and he would clamber up the stairs to Spencer's room to kiss and read and talk the night away. Not once had Spencer expressed concern. Aaron didn't know if he should bring it up, how strange it was that he and his mother often didn't talk to each other. And she didn't have any questions for the odd man on her couch, teaching her son. Perhaps she thought Spencer was teaching him? 

Aaron watched cautiously as Spencer slipped his shirt over his head, his back to the man on his bed as he dug around in his closet for a comfortable one to sleep in. A pale streak of skin shot down the back of Spencer's spine, a scar that looked ghastly as a scar, but Aaron couldn't imagine what it looked like when it was fresh. He kicked his shoes off and crawled off of the bed, walking in socked feet toward his partner, placing his cold hands on the warm, skinny hips.  

Spencer jumped but leaned back into his touch. He ran his finger up the scar, feeling the ridges of the sharp spine as he wondered what could have happened. It couldn't have been a deep cut or gash, or Spencer would have had mental repercussions or a problem walking. He was fine, though, and hadn't brought anything up to Aaron. Was it his mother? Had she done this? 

Spencer, as if reading the man's mind, turned around and covered the scar with his palm protectively, "What are you doing?" 

"Who did that to you?" Aaron said, his voice sounding much more like a growl in his ears than he intended. 

"No one," Spencer replied, a nervous gleam in his eye as he backed up a few steps, the clothes in his closet surrounding him. "What's wrong?" 

"When did that happen, Spencer? Just give me a date." 

"March 21st, 1996, 1:08 AM," Spencer murmured, looking down to his hands. 

"Who was with you?" 

"Who else would be with me at one in the morning?" The young boy murmured to his feet.  

Aaron didn't understand for a long time, his hands still suspended in the air, watching for any clue, any kind of hint. Spencer sighed and returned, wrapping Aaron's arms manually around his skinny body and rested his forehead on Aaron's chest.  

"I love you," Spencer whispered, wincing at the silence. "Please don't get mad." 

"Was I..." Aaron cleared his throat and slowly walked himself and the welcome parasite of a boy to the end of the bed, sitting down and adjusting Spencer like a makeshift belt around him. "Was I mad at you when I did that?" 

"No, you weren't mad. It was kinda my fault actually. I was in the way." 

"In the way?" 

"You came through the window and you were all frenzied and you had tracks on your arms so I went to help you in and then you accidentally pushed me back and I hit the edge of the bed frame," Spencer blabbered, closing one of his eyes to try and remember everything, "Then I got all the First Aid things from the bathroom and sterilized you so you wouldn't get infected." 

Aaron nodded, "And then you let me patch you up, right?" 

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but his eyes wandered to the floor. Aaron followed his line of attention and grimaced at the stiff, darkened carpet that Spencer had no doubt been hiding. Spencer's blood, soaked into the carpet, had been spilled in the first place due to Aaron's carelessness. 

"You didn't tell me." 

Spencer smiled and shrugged, "Didn't want you to worry. That wasn't you, Aaron. That was someone weaker than you." 

Aaron framed Spencer's face with his hands, "Are there any other times I hurt you that I need to know about?" 

Spencer tried to wriggle out of Aaron's grip, but it didn't work. He gave up and hesitantly initiated eye contact, "October 9th, 1995. October 10th, 1995. December 25th, 1995. January 1st, 1996. March 22nd, 1996. October 10th, 1996..." 

Aaron watched as Spencer shook himself out of his memory and smiled at him, again. Always smiling, even when he had the right to feel anything but happy. 

"But now you're better!" Spencer kissed him and tucked his hair behind his ear, "I love you." 

"You can't let me do anything to you, Spencer..." Aaron whispered, his voice husky as he gingerly ran his fingers through his partner's long hair, "Please." 

"I won't." 

"Promise?" 

"I promise." 

The night was short, filled with the things they'd done before the trip with a few new embellishments. Despite the small setback early on in the night, Spencer's tolerance and confidence had increased significantly since their spat before summer had begun. He sat around with his shirt off and his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he showed Aaron his favorite arrangements of poetry from E. E. Cummings. 

"An-and, if you look closely," Spencer said, shoving the page into Aaron's face, "you can see how the words inside the parentheses and outside of the parentheses are separate poems all on their own." 

"Wow, sweetheart," Aaron said, squinting at the page. "That's beautiful." 

"I know right. So romantic, in a subtle way," Spencer grinned. "Like you." 


End file.
